


Just A Regular Tuesday

by J_Ackles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depression, Gen, Mental Coercion, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 04:27:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_Ackles/pseuds/J_Ackles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean falls on a Tuesday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just A Regular Tuesday

**Author's Note:**

> There may or may not be an alternate ending that will turn into more, but we'll wait and see.

Dean falls on a Tuesday.

It’d been two years since Sam had left, and he thought he was doing better. He wasn’t drinking as much to get through the night. He had stopped sleeping with anyone who gave him the time of day. He had just changed.

“Dean, are you okay?”

Looking up from the pile of boxes Dean still has to go through of items to shelve he shakes his head, and looks up to see Leslie.

“Yeah, just a little tired. Neighbors’ kid thought it’d be cool to play her Miley Cyrus CD’s at midnight, and put it on repeat.”

He’s lying. Stephanie is a great kid, and he usually sees all the lights in Glen home shut off by eleven.

He doesn’t know what’s going on though so he just came up with a reason.

“Christ, teenagers. They’re such a handful,” she says as she walks away when she’s beckoned by a customer.

“See ya.”

When he gets home from work he sits on his couch, and drinks like he hasn’t in a long while. He thinks of what his dad must think about what happened to his eldest son seeing he had just randomly dropped off the radar. Probably nothing. He hadn’t cared about him anymore when Sam had left.

Sam. He was too busy in his life to even try, and make contact. For a while Dean had kept his old cellphone with him waiting for something, anything, but nothing ever came. When he tried to call he was instantly ignored. It got to the point where when he called he was notified that his number had been blocked. That was the push he needed to just stop.

He threw the phone away in the work dumpster the next day.

Right now on his couch he feels himself sinking to the depths of where he’d been after being abandoned by everyone he knew. He still had a pistol in the drawer of his nightstand.

“There’s a reason we left,” Sam whispers in his ear. “Stanford was just my out for getting away from you.”

“It’s true, Dean. The older you got the less I could stand to be around you. You started to become the embodiment of almost everything I hated in the world. Hell, if you had been possessed, you’d have been number one on my list of things to kill.”

His hand is shaking so hard it hurts.

“Do the world a big favor, and use that pistol in your room on you.”

He doesn’t have to look up to see what Sam is miming that he do with it.

“Do I have to make it an order for you to actually do it this time? Last time you were so close. Get yourself back to that point, and actually follow through with it this time.”

He can’t move. He doesn’t want to die. . . Kind of. Maybe? He’s not sure. Nothing keeping him here.

“We don’t need you Dean. No one does. Get that through your fuckin’ head, and everything else will fall into place. Okay?”

The metal is cold against his sweat damp hands.

“That’s good. Doesn’t it feel good to have that back in your hands again?” John asks.

“Now all you have to do is bring it up?” Sam coaxes placing a cool soft hand on top of his.

He can feel himself bringing it up, and he can’t help but feel a little proud at hearing his dad finally tell him that he’s being a good son.

They were right. It didn’t hurt.


End file.
